Scare Me Up Just a Little Bit
by SpruceMoose13
Summary: Paranorman fic. There came a day Aggie's spirit returned, and Norman has begun to grow up with her by his side. But he has new feelings to let out about it, and he knows just the right way to express them... Inspired by those fantastic end credits.
1. Scare Me Up Just a Little Bit

This pairing gets too little love. This whole movie gets too little love for that matter. I hope this does something to change all that.

And I hope you enjoy, of course. Song "Little Ghost" by The White Stripes, I own nothing here.

* * *

Norman couldn't say he enjoyed going back to school. It was fraught with peril, rife with bullies, and all around hazardous for a gentle soul such as himself.

But as the soft New England sunbeams shined on his street, and he sniffed the breeze of both Summer and Fall wrapped up in one, he could admit this one ritual was a welcome return.

"Good morning, sir!" he quipped, rendering a salute in stride.

"As you were, solider," was the response from the ancient cavalry officer, in the same fashion he had greeted Norman for the past 5 years.

5 years has done plenty for the boy vertically, his body taking the care to shoot up to a lanky, spindly 5'11", more if you measured to the top of his perpetually spiked hair. The ends brushed up against the feet of his downed pilot friend, who still berated him for shooting off the classic "how's it hanging?" line. And so the ritual went on, with the Mafioso, the hair lady, the dead raccoon, friends one and all.

But one thing was certainly _not_ exactly the same in the daily stroll to school. It was one thing in particular that made Norman feel much more at ease with the prospect of rising so early to walk to a confined desk surrounded by much less than friendly company. It was hidden from view until he was just past, like always. He caught the greenish tinge materializing out of the corner of his eye, but he purposely kept himself from jerking his head back to gaze.

"Good morning, Norman," lilted the dainty form of his best…_female friend_. Her dulcet tones slowed his walk to half steps. He raised his fingers in greeting, still as shy as the day she came back to him after her year's absence.

"H-hi Aggie," he stuttered. "Your dress looks nice today."

It was the same plain, black Puritan dress she'd worn for years, but it didn't matter. She'd changed her form to match what her body should have looked like since she returned, seemingly for no other reason than she could.

Her return…her return one short year after the events that brought them together for the first time had been a mystery for reasons neither could understand, save for there was surely something unfinished that was binding her to this world. Unfinished business. It was nearly impossible to guess what it might be for a young girl who lived centuries ago, but that didn't stop Norman (and occasionally his best friend Neil, who had eventually cajoled the existence of Aggie out of him) from spending an inordinate amount of time trying to figure it out. Any time spent together was a worthwhile use of said time, as far as either Norman or Aggie was concerned.

And as she had been changing forms, Norman couldn't deny that he'd gone from thinking she was "pretty" and "cute" to thinking she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, living or dead. Puritan dress or not. He never asked to develop this crush on the oddest of partners, never saw it coming. Not even when she placed her head so gently on his shoulder, and he could feel her tiny heartbeat and how it soothed him even back then.

It was no use trying to bury it in his introversion anymore; they'd both been taught that lesson long ago. He was certain how he felt now, for better or worse. He wanted to hold her petite frame, with its gentle curves and delicate features, just a bit longer every time they lay under their special tree. He could somehow smell the wildflowers on her silken black hair, or was that something he made up in his head? He wanted to find out if he could taste what a kiss from her rosebud lips would be like, but he kept that thought well buried to keep from daydreaming all day.

Aggie giggled at the compliment, covering her face with her hand in an archaic gesture of etiquette. Norman found it adorable.

"Thank you, Norman," she said, perching atop a "Stop" sign ahead of him. "I, um…your hair is looking extra spiky today." Her face scrunched up in a meek, slow smile. Her eyes shone softer than a dove's down, framed by tired wrinkles from experiences far beyond her years. She leaned forward, arms crossed in a sign of her perpetual shyness.

Norman felt his stomach vault off his heart, and smiled back.

"Thanks, Aggie," he replied. He didn't want to continue past this "Stop" sign. Chatting with his crush, no matter how bizarre it would have looked to the bystanders driving past him, would have been far more preferable. But he knew what he had to do, and decided to make the best of it.

"You…are you going to be there, at the festival?" he asked. Aggie rolled her eyes and huffed.

"I told you already Norman, and I've told you every day we've met for the last month. Of _course _I'll be there, and I will look forward to seeing you, and I should hope you remember that you promised me a dance before the day is over," she responded, eyes now twinkling in a way that belied the her nature as a witch. She crossed her legs very deliberately and kept her now devlish gaze squarely upon him.

Norman breathed in sharply. "I won't forget, Aggie," he said, with a pure honesty that left a mark on all that bothered to take the time to get to know the boy. "I'd never break a promise to you. Ever."

They stopped to smile at each other a few more seconds before Norman made to continue his walk, stepping forward after checking to see that the road was clear.

"I'll see you later, Aggie!" he yelled as he waved back to her from across the street.

"Enjoy the first day back to your grammar school, Norman!" she replied. "And tell Neil I said 'hi' too!"

Norman could finish the rest of his walk to school with a spring in his step. Alvin tried his best to quash it, but it was too deeply embedded. Norman had a plan, and he was determined to see it through. The weekend's festival would be something he'd never forget, one way or the other.

* * *

That day at school was agonizingly slow in its crawl to the long weekend. School had decided to start the week before the Labor Day holiday, and the grand finale to summer that came with it. The town's annual celebration of the occasion was normally a source of stress for Norman, what with its forced social interactions and surefire torment from certain bullies who still didn't quite value his contributions of five years ago.

Norman arrived at his locker to finish the day, which had been blessedly clean of vandalism that might have been left over the summer. His contributions that faithful night of the witch's curse hadn't exactly earned him popularity, but it had at least bought him the peace of being left alone for the most part. Alvin occasionally got bored and saw fit to remind him of his perceived pecking order, but Norman had endeared himself enough to Neil's brother to warrant a pseudo-bodyguard relationship, as needed. Norman figured it was a show of gratitude, both for saving the town, and for giving his little brother a much-needed friend.

As though on cue from the thought of him, that very friend showed up at his side looking especially animated.

"You ready Norman? Huh? I bet you are!" Neil exclaimed, bouncing on his heels. His overstuffed backpack shook with him, no doubt from taking those advanced classes his other know-it-all friend had dragged him into. Norman smirked to one side of his face, glancing over to see the large but perpetually jolly form of his frequent "partner-in-crime".

"Sure Neil," he replied. "Ready as I'll ever be," he added with a sigh. His shoulders drooped gradually as he turned down the hallway toward the exit. Neil began to follow, jittering with excess energy in sharp contrast. Norman appeared as though he were a slowly deflating hot air balloon; Neil looked like the flickering torch desperately trying to bring the balloon back to life.

"Aw come on, don't get this way now!" Neil chided. "You're getting nervous again, aren't you? Don't think I can't tell just because you don't give it away _chemically_, like me."

Norman choked back a laugh at the frankness of his friend's bluntness, as he had so many times before.

"I know you feel like hurling at the thought of her rejecting you, and never seeing her again, a-and living the rest of your life wondering what could have been if you'd just stayed friends and lived safely as a happy coward!" Neil prattled, gaze drifting off as he ran through his own little world of thoughts. I didn't seem to help Norman's mood much as they made it out the door into the town. "But you don't have _everything_ riding on this! Just one girl. One special girl, who I'm still taking your word on as existing at all…but still just a girl! Mitch always tells me not to worry about girls too much, they're _flighty."_

Neil's rambling began to eke out a small upturn of Norman's lips, for no other reason than it was amusing to hear Neil's musings when he got on a roll.

"But no matter what, I'll still be there for you! You don't need a girlfriend to be cool, not if you ask me. Nope. Free as a bird is probably the way to be anyway," Neil boasted, with his best attempt at a winning smile. "And besides…that's what we've been practicing for anyway, right? That's gotta count for something. I think you're gonna be fine, buddy,"

Neil clapped Norman on the back, nearly knocking him over. Norman may have grown taller, but Neil was still roughly twice his weight. Still, it was a good kind of "knocking the wind out" of him.

"Th-thanks Neil," Norman said, honestly, with a slight cough to his voice. "You're the best."

Neil smiled, stopping now before his house. "Hey, that's what friends are for. Told you it was a good idea to be miserable and alone together!" And after sealing it with a low five, Neil headed into his house. "See you there on Monday!"

Norman was never sure if Neil knew the charming absurdity of his own statements, but he was grateful for the young man being himself all the same. Whether this worked or not, he'd never be able to repay him enough for being there, always.

And if it did work, he'd owe him even more. They just had to get there first.

* * *

The sound of the theme from "Halloween" (Norman's favorite non-zombie movie, if he had to pick) snapped Norman out of his daze on the couch. It was Sunday, the day before the Labor Day, and the day before he'd…make his _move_. That's what he thought it was called anyway. Courtney would know, which was precisely why he'd asked her of all people for advice, just this one time. He was sure his father wouldn't understand, no matter how much harder he was trying in the last few years, and Mom or Grandma…no, too "motherly" to tell him what he needed to hear. Norman was nothing if not pragmatic. He needed his big sister, and in typical fashion, she had made him wait on her call for when she was finally "free to talk about whatever chess team captain he was crushing on", upon admitting to her that he needed "girl advice", at long last.

Norman picked up and held the phone to his ear with a petulant sigh.

"_Okaaaaay Norman, come on over to my room. Let's figure this out before you end up ruining your life forever…"_ Courtney ordered. She had such a way with words when he was upset, he thought to himself.

Norman trudged over to her room, nearly dragging his feet. He knew he had asked for it, but still…having to talk to Courtney about _girls_ was nearly as terrifying as what he was actually planning to do tomorrow. He opened the room to a pink wonderland of sorts, plush and smelling of what Norman could only describe as…"girl". Just purified "girl", if there ever as such a thing.

"Okay, zombie-brains," she said with a hint of exasperation. "What's your problem?"

Norman starred at her lying across her bed on her stomach, head propped up on her hands. She looked at him expectantly.

"Well…first, zombies _eat_ brains. They don't have much of their own left…so, uh, the nickname kinda doesn't make sense…" he said, voice tapering off.

She stared him down with her most perturbed glare.

"R-right…so, uh, about this girl. She…she's important to me. We're like best friends."

"I thought Neil was your best friend?"

"He is! He's just my best boy-friend. Er, that is, ah, shoot…"

Norman's flustered ramble made her chuckle affectionately. For all the grief she gave him, she wanted to see him happy when it came down to it (if you forced her). She decided to take charge of the boy's jumbled emotions. This was one subject she could actually help him with.

"Let me see if I can figure this out for you," she said, much more gently than how she began this conversation. "You're friends with this girl…even though we haven't heard of her before. Maybe that's who you meet when you run off into the woods for a few hours at a time, hm?"

Norman stared at his shuffling feet, blushing to his protruding ears. He nodded slightly.

"Right. Aaaand…you've fallen for her, huh? And you're worried it might ruin your friendship, you aren't cool enough, she deserves better, maybe you should play it safe, yadda yadda and all that clichéd stuff, right?"

Norman's breath caught in his throat, audibly. He peered up at his sister with pleading eyes. She got up and placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Listen…I know it's scary, but…"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before continuing with her trademark fire.

"But you've gotta take the bull by the horns here, and get that girl!"

Norman's eyes grew wide. "But-but…"

"No buts, buster! Not now, not ever!" She stood straight up, hands on her hips. "This is important! You need to live life with no regrets, and you need to be a real man about it. I mean, you have to be _confident_, how do you expect a girl to do 'adult things' with you if you can't show you're a real man?"

"…you mean like kissing?" Norman whimpered. Even at 16, the thought was strange, exotic, and terribly exciting to him, in a pleasantly frightening sort of way.

"Ugh, yes, that's…_part_ of it. Look, Norman," she continued, softening up in her tone again, " you just need to tell her how you feel. That's it. It's no use bottling it up, just be honest, and be proud of your feelings. That'll give you all the confidence you need, okay?" She tilted his head up and gave him one of her rarer, warm kinds of smiles. "Okay?"

Norman thought he could almost see their mother in the look.

"…okay, Courtney. That…actually makes sense. Thanks," he said in earnestly.

And after a brief hug, Courtney saw fit to revert to her more usual ways.

"Now get out of here, I have my own love life to take care of! God, do you think I might like if someone helped _me_ with that for a change! It's like I have to do _everything _important around here…"

Norman just smirked as he turned to walk out the room, but not before she stopped him for one last parting shot.

"Norman!" she called out to him. "Just remember…it doesn't matter how _different_ she is, or what anyone might think of how you _look_ together. When you find someone special…all that matters is how the both of you _feel_. In your _spirits_. Okay?"

Norman's mouth opened in shock. He wanted to ask if she knew, and for how long, and so much more. But her smug, knowing look was intimidating right now, and he didn't want to push his luck. Some things were better left a secret…for now, anyway.

"…okay, Courtney. I'll…I'll remember. I promise," was all he could say in response before finally exiting her room to march back to his own.

* * *

The day finally arrived, with a sweltering heat that persisted through the day. As if Norman wasn't already jangled and clammy, he was hot and sweaty on top of it…

He didn't let it on that he was so nervous to his otherwise happy family. Everyone was having a grand old time, and he was content to let them take the lead. They were already used to his shyness, and his laid back approach to social gatherings. He was content to let them lead him around the various sports, games, activities…it was all window dressing to him. His mind was preoccupied on the main event.

He was broken free of his auto-pilot when a certain apparition made her giggle audible to him. She passed in front of him with a mock huff.

"Hello there, Norman," Aggie greeted him, chidingly.

Norman's heart melted. His family continued walking by as he stopped to talk to her. "Oh, hi Aggie…how are you liking this year's festival?"

She pouted before looking down at the ground below her. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"W-what? No, no Aggie! I didn't forget at all! I know you want to dance with me here…and the music is about to start soon…"

Aggie drew her eyes up endearingly. He was already putty. "So…you did remember? You know I never got to dance with a boy when I was alive Norman…my Mommy said it was like-like a kind of heaven, in your own little world…with a prince like the ones she read about in her stories…"

Norman's ears burned so hot, he was sure any fly that landed on them would burst into flames.

"I-I understand if you think it'll get you laughed at, Norman. Because no one else can see me…the last thing I would ever want is for you to be laughed at because of _me_…" she trailed off, voice choking off with pent up emotion.

"No, that's not it at all Aggie! I just have something even more special planned!" Norman blurted, not sure how she could make him lose his normal sense of calm and control so easily. His family, used to his shenanigans as they were, only looked back placidly from several yards away, as though to remind him to come back to Earth.

"I…just trust me, Aggie. Please? You'll see…and then we'll dance, I promise."

Their eyes locked, and Aggie relented, turning away sheepishly.

"…okay Norman," she peeped. She threw her arms around him in a brief but tight hug, whispering in his ear, "_I trust you_".

At that, she disappeared into the thin air, and Norman was left stunned. His father's berating broke him out of his stupor, and he practically had to run to catch up with his family.

* * *

It was sunset when the stage was finally manned by Blithe Hollow's finest amateur acts. With a kiss of "good luck" from his mother and a hearty clap on the shoulder from his father, Norman made off to the backstage area with Neil to get ready.

Neil sat on a milk crate, tuning his guitar obsessively while Alvin's band did it's best to offend the town's collective auditory sensibilities.

"_Ya see I'm hip like a monkey, I'm ready to get __**funky**__! Yo ladies it's Alvin and The Homies in the house!"_

Norman could hear Alvin's bizarre rap/rock combination attempt at full blast, and Alvin's poor attempts at artistic screaming were putting him further on edge.

"Neil…your guitar sounds fine, don't worry about it," he said, partly because it was true and partly because he just wanted to get his mind on more mundane things.

Neil had learned guitar on the advice of his older brother, to make him "cooler" to his peers. Help him get accepted, make more friends, the works. And Neil did find he enjoyed it, very quickly becoming proficient at the instrument.

And in typical fashion, it didn't help him at all with his social standing. Neil played what he liked, and what made him happy, without a care in the world what others thought. And as should have been expected, what Neil liked to play was vastly different than what his peers might have wanted to hear, and he was left with no one but Norman to "serenade" with his burgeoning craft.

"It doesn't sound right," Neil replied, fiddling with another tuning head.

"Neil it sounds _fine_, really,"

"No no, I think I can get it better,"

"Neil, we're going on in one minute! It's fine, honest!"

"Just a second Norman..."

"Dammit Neil..." Norman muttered, in a rare use of profanity on his part.

The old middle school director, Ms. Henscher, came out to the stage to MC the event, ushering Alvin and his band off.

"Thank you, thank you Alvin! Yes-_I said thank you_ Alvin, that will be _all_. No, no time for your encore, it is time for a triumphant _new_ act to take the stage and regal us with their dulcet tones!" she bellowed, dramatically and with heavy exaggeration. The audience continued to applaud politely.

"Now please direct your attention stageward once again!" she continued. "I would like to welcome to the stage…Mr. Norman Babcock and his accompanist, Mr. Neil Downe!"

This was it…it was here, and there was no backing out when your name was now put on the line for the entire town's entertainment. Norman wished he could remember what gave him this idea in the first place. He vaguely remembered seeing something like it in _"Dying of The Dead"_…

"Let's go Norman!" Neil hushed, trotting onto stage with that best attempt at a million-dollar smile again. Norman breathed deeply, following him out onto the stage.

He walked up to the microphone as Neil plugged his guitar into the amp.

"Um…hi everyone," Norman started plainly. He was never the best public speaker, not like his cheerleader sister. But he had his moments when needed. He tried to tap into that same spirit now, that drove him to talk down a mob all those years ago…

"We…we're-we're going to sing you a song now, and-"

In that moment, he saw her. Out in the crowd, hovering above his family's head ever so slightly. There for him, not giving up. Never giving up. Just as he never gave up on her. Like Neil to his side, ready to help him in whatever way he knew how, like old times being re-taught to him all over again. He continued to fuddle with his tuning, but Norman found it reassuring in this new light. And Aggie continued to hover there, in her gentle almost-smile, patiently waiting for what he promised her. Just like the promise to see her mother again, to pass on at last, she waited patiently out of…

Norman couldn't bear handle the thought of finishing _that_ sentence. Not now. For now, his newfound resolve would do.

"We're going to sing you a song, which goes out to a special friend of mine. Thank you to everyone who's stood by me to give me this chance, and…um, just, thank you to everyone! Here goes," he finished, picking up his tambourine and nodding to Neil to begin.

And so it began, with Neil strumming out the opening chords with great gusto, and Norman joining him with the tambourine's rhythm. Neil stomped the stage to simulate the bass drum, and it was just as they rehearsed, until Norman took a breath and opened his mouth to sing his heart out to the object of his Earthly and un-Earthly affections.

"_Little ghost, little ghost , one I'm scared of the most, can you scare me up a little bit of love?"_

Norman kept his eyes closed at first, not wanting to see her reaction just yet. He could hear Neil harmonizing the bass part well, which made him feel a bit more confident. They sang of his first meeting with a very special little ghost, and through the second chorus, finally opening his eyes to see her.

"…_and I see my little ghost, wond'rin' if it's really her that's lying there…",_ like so many times he'd woken up to see her goading him out of bed to keep him from being late, Norman thought to himself.

He looked out to see her transfixed, in a daze hovering above his father. She seemed to sit on his head, as if she needed a chair in an ancient habit of her past life. He couldn't tell if it was a good kind of shocked, or the worst kind, but all he could do for now was keep singing. Neil's guitar played on, strong as ever. He seemed to be having the time of his life playing on stage with a captive audience for once.

They continued on, through the admission that he was too scared to kiss her (that had been true so many times by now), through more choruses, and through the admission of his efforts to keep it a secret (now shaken, after his sister's cryptic message, but that would have be addressed later). They arrived at the climax.

"_No one else could see this apparition…"_

Neil strummed furiously now.

"_But because of my condition…"_

That was one way to put it, Norman mused.

"_I feel in love with a little ghost and that was all!"_ Norman rang out, solo on that all-important line. He looked straight into Aggie's stare as he sang it, speaking directly to her.

They finished with the last chorus, Norman practically pouring out his heart and soul as he pleaded out the final lines,

_"No it's not yet time to meet the Lord above!"_

Wasn't that the truth? It wasn't time yet…for whatever reason, it wasn't time yet. And Norman liked to believe…_wanted_ to believe, so badly that it was because she had unfinished business with _him_. It wasn't time, he couldn't imagine a world without her anymore…even though he'd gladly destroy that happiness with her in a heartbeat, if it meant he could give her what she wanted and return her to her mother in paradise. All the same, there was a part of him that was practically begging the powers high above to let him keep her in his life, just a big longer…that was the part which he had just shouted on the figurative rooftops out to the whole town.

Neil looked at him confidently. "That was awesome, Norman," he said. "We _killed_ it, man."

"Yeah," Norman said with a grin. "Thanks again Neil."

They were oblivious to the applause, mainly coming from their loved ones in the center, recording everything.

"Great job, son!" Norman heard his mother shout. He could hear his sister in a whooping cheer of sorts.

But the one he really wanted to see was not in her former spot when he looked up. He scanned the crowd desperately, for any sign that she had like what she heard…and instead found her backing away, in the back of the mob, eyes glistening with tears and looking ready to burst. When his gaze caught up with her, she bolted away with a yelp, straight for the forest.

Norman's heart was ready to shatter to pieces, if only his former teacher's roar didn't snap him awake and off the stage.

"Thank you, thank you gentlemen! Very rousing! Very rousing indeed," she said, rolling her "r's" longer than the actual time it took to say the rest of the word. He willed his legs to move, one after another, off the stage.

"So, so? Did she hear, was she there? Did she like it? She did, didn't she? And you can't wait to see her, you sly dog you!" Neil chattered, punching him lightly in the arm in what he thought was a congratulatory pep talk.

"Well…I don't know yet Neil,"

"Wha…wha?"

Norman sighed, and drooped his head. "I said…I don't know yet. She…she went away."

Norman began dragging his feet into the crowd, away from the backstage area. He could already hear Alvin firing insults about his singing.

"What kind of real man sings that high anyway? Huh, lover boy? Who's the unlucky girl?" His posse sniggered maliciously.

Neil matched pace with his friend, throwing his free arm around Norman's neck and hoisting his guitar on his shoulder.

"Come on, buddy. Let's go find our folks…"

Norman sighed again. "Yeah…yeah. That sounds good Neil."

He glanced up at the twilight sky in front of him. He hated to think it was twilight for so much more.

"I just hope…I find her again. To find out…what she thought about our singing, anyway."

* * *

Once sufficiently congratulated on his performance by his loved ones, and told to be home by curfew for the umpteenth time, Norman ran like he never had before. He knew the route like he knew Romero's entire filmography, but he felt an entirely unwelcome déjà vu. The air was charged with…bad magic. The wrong kind. He'd felt it way back _then_, and he'd only felt it occasionally since, when Aggie saw fit to cut off the antics of a new bully that was picking on him under her watch…and even then, he told her he didn't want her to get that way. He wouldn't want her indulging that darkness, not for him and not ever.

He thought he could see the trees laughing menacingly at him, but he dare not look back. He thought the ground was biting at him with jagged spikes of bark, but he just ran harder in hopes he could out run them. He just needed to get to the tree, _their_ tree. All he needed was the full moon above him to light the way.

After what seemed like hours of running his legs clean off, he arrived at the clearing. Her grave. His heart leapt into his throat with the thought of such a sweet and wondrous girl being hurt like the way she was, and buried for no one to find her…

He approached carefully, knowing that she could sense his presence.

"_What are you doing here, Norman?_" she asked, her voice echoing with dark power like the old days, but not quite so angry and belligerent. It sounded…afraid. Softer, like she just finished crying. Like she was as conflicted as he was.

"I…I just thought I should check on you, see how you're doing…what you might be up to…" he prattled non-chalantly. The parallels to their first meeting didn't make him feel any better. "The festival is over now, and uh, I was wondering what you thought…of our singing…you know, me and Neil."

His world was drawn into a fantasy realm, his vision burning away like his previous haunted visions. This one was new, like a distorted version of her peaceful world, the one where she could finally fall asleep. It was more foreboding than that, but not entirely lost. The sky was tinged auburn, and the trees were alight in the colors of Fall. They were flush with leaves, but they looked as though a stiff breeze would knock them off any second now, and never allow them to regrow. A world of change, and transition, that could still go either way.

Aggie looked normal, beautiful as ever. But her eyes flickered, just barely, with the yellow glint of rage he feared would overcome her again. To think had driven her into that kind of pain would tear him apart inside.

"Do you really think I care about your _singing_ right now, Norman?" she asked pointedly, eyes flickering more. The wind picked up, rattling the beautiful trees and sending leaves tumbling all around them. Norman cringed, but kept inching closer to her.

"Um…yes?...Maybe?" he squeaked out.

Aggie's glare softened again. The setting grew peaceful, the wind stopping and sunbeams shining through. "You sounded really nice. Your voice is pretty…I wish you would sing more." She gave him a slow, shy smile before her head fell away again, and she began to walk away toward the tree.

"Why'd you sing that song, Norman?" she asked, point blank. "Why-what were you trying to say?"

Norman walked closer to her, with measured steps. His hands were buried in his pockets, shoulders rolling around aimlessly.

"I don't know…" he began listlessly. "Wait, no. I do know, it's just…" He remembered his sister's advice, ringing in his mind's ear. This is what she meant, after all. "I guess I just wanted to share what I felt about you, and about us." He walked around to her front, leaning down and pulling his hands out to sit on her shoulders. "About _all_ of…_us_,"

Aggie lifted her head to look him in the eyes again, her gaze blinking back and forth between bitter yellow and serene blue like an old, short-circuiting TV set.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Aggie exclaimed, her voice quivering with the echo again. "There…can't be any _more_ us, Norman! It's crazy and you deserve to not be made fun of the rest of your life and…and it _scares_ me!" She shook herself free of his hold and crouched at the base of the tree. Tears were rolling down her face now, leaving black, streaking stains.

Norman's hands hung in the air, unsure of what to do with them, much less what to _say_. He stood planted to his spot. His eyes roamed around the landscape, watching for any sudde nchagne in scenery. It remained charged with tension in the crisp air, but steady.

"Is it…because of that thing? You know, about…we might be kinda sorta related? Like…50th cousins or so, a few times removed at least? 300 years…I mean, that's a long time Aggie…" he rambled. "We had a president who married his fifth cousin, and I'm pretty sure my teacher said that worked out okay…"

"That isn't it Norman!" she interrupted, snapping her head around and causing her hair to fan out wildly. "It scares me because I don't know what it all means for staying here…for seeing my Mom…for how I feel about _you_…" Norman's stomach flipped. He kneeled down to try and get closer, but she crouched into a tighter ball, hair draping her petite form like a barrier to him. "It's hard enough to deal with missing Mommy, and not knowing why this is all happening. It only gets harder if I have something I _want_ to keep close to me here, something that…" Her voice shook with emotion now, lightning crackling around her. "Something that I can't even make sense of! That I don't even know how to deal with…how can I let myself fall for a _living_ boy at all…" She finally turned her head back to look at him, eyes wide and vulnerable.

"Doesn't…doesn't falling in love scare you at all, too?"

Norman paused for a long moment before responding.

"…yes. It does. More than anything, even more than when I faced you down when you didn't like me very much."

His joke managed to get a chuckle out of both of them. It was a start.

"I've been scared too, Aggie…scared that you'll disappear into the ether again, even though I want you to be happy more than _anything_. I've been scared of telling you that I'm scared of losing you, but more scared of not telling you that…that I care so much. That I'm sorry I ever called you a 'horrible old witch'…"

"I'm sorry I beat you up like a 'horrible old witch', too…"

They both smirked at each other, Aggie's form relaxing as Norman sat next to her. They leaned against the tree like old times, side by side, slowly falling into each other as they relaxed.

"I guess," Norman continued, the scenery breaking free of the storm clouds that had been gathering and reverting back to a more peaceful autumn setting. The leaves fell softly around them. "I guess we've both been scared, but it's just like we found out back then. Like what my Grandma said: just don't let it change who you are." Norman leaned in closer to her. "And…trying to let that fear make me pretend I didn't feel anything…that was as good as letting it change a big part of who I was after all."

Aggie looked upon him with those big doe-eyes, face inching closer to his. She nodded shortly, making a vague noise of agreement. They stayed that way for awhile, trying to read the other but content to just enjoy the closeness of their bond again.

"But Aggie...I just…wanted you to know...that you're..."

"What? I'm what, Norman?"

"Y-you're, uh...special," he finally breathed out. "You're special to me."

Agatha's breathing became heavier. ""I've...never been...special to someone before. Not like this."

Norman brushed a stray hair back from her face, in a stroke of pure tenderness. "Me neither," he whispered, smiling his warm smile again.

"Then…can...can we be special to each other? Together? If we aren't afraid anymore?" she said, voice now barely held together.

"If you want…"

Their faces had been drifting ever closer together, but now she stopped to give him that second guessing glance, as she had right before she fell asleep at their first meeting. This time, she would make up her mind.

"N-Norman...I think you're special to me, too."

It was sealed with a kiss, soft and gentle, and filled with the love they had once promised to each other existed in this world.

They planted several more sweet kisses, unsure but reveling in the newfound sensation of being so close.

"Norman…" Agatha said as she pulled away, "why do you think I woke up? Why do you think I'm still here?"

"I don't know for sure Aggie," he answered truthfully. "But I think…maybe there's something left here for you."

" Something you're supposed to have before your spirit passes, my dear one," said a voice that surrounded them, penetrating in its steadying strength. It was rich and soothing, like…a kindly mother.

"M-Mommy?"

"Aggie…dearest, please. All is right. This is your second chance…at that which all pure souls deserve…we will be united again. When you have finished your story here…when you have finished your second life, and second great love."

The voice left as soon as it came, but Norman could see the emotion washing over his newfound girlfriend. Then he could see the relief, as her tightly knit eyebrows and shuttered eyelids relaxed, as though a burden lifted from her soul. But to his relief, she did not disappear into the mist. Instead, she held him close, and they let the hole in her heart begin to heal at last. Norman held her back, as though she were the most precious thing in the entire world.

They stayed that way until Norman finally, and sheepishly, suggested a dance. And in a promise kept, they danced, to the beat of their own elated heartbeats and laughter at what they'd found in the most unlikely of places, through three centuries and death itself.

When the music in only their ears finally finished, and they kissed goodnight, Norman found himself waking up in the middle of the forest, woefully past curfew. He stopped his mad dash back home only to make sure Neil knew: it had all worked out, just like he said it would, and that he owed him big time. Neil was grateful, and nearly woke the whole neighborhood with his heartfelt congratulations. He would never have slept soundly without knowing for sure, after all.

* * *

The next evening, though officially grounded, Norman found his "sentence" commuted as a reward for his sterling performance the night before. "Manly character demonstrated", his father claimed. Thus, Norman was allowed to keep his one night-a-week ritual of choosing the family movie in the basement. Zombie horror, naturally. His sister only gave a hearty "blech" out of habit at this point, she was slowly warming up to them according to Grandma (still sitting in her usual spot).

And to Norman's right, as he sat in his usual position right in front of the screen, was what appeared to be…nothing at all. Just Norman clutching the air next to him, as though pantomiming holding an object. Or maybe a hand?

"Er, son… what are you doing there with your hand?" his father asked.

"Oh, that's just Aggie Dad. Remember, I told you she visits every now and then?" Norman replied without batting an eye or skipping a beat. He could hear a groan from his sister right after the involuntarily squelch of joy.

"Ah, okay, and I guess Aggie is another gho-er, 'spirited person' friend of yours, right?"

"Yup, that's about right,"

"…and what's Aggie doing…here, tonight?"

"Oh. Aggie is my girlfriend now," Norman said as though telling him the time of day.

"…oh."

"Isn't that nice?" his mother remarked with a proud smile.

"...right. Way to go, squirt," his father relented.

"She's a pretty one you got there, Norman. Chip off your ol' Grandfather's block, you are," Grandma remarked approvingly.

"Yeah," he replied, feeling a ghostly peck on his cheek and trying to stifle a blush, "she's…special."

So was the way his little ghost scared up a bit of love, for both of them.


	2. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night I

Start of what might end up being a Halloween story for Norgatha, if anyone is interested. I kind of think it still works on its own too. Catch the spirit of the season if you havne't already!

* * *

A full moon.

Too perfect, Norman thought. Couldn't possibly be this easy. Some sort of psycho killer or zombie was surely about to get them, right?

He waited. No such thing.

Crisp air fluttered around him and the gradually rising form of a beautiful young girl. Eerie green light cast shadows over the dead trees, shooting up into space. Into the milky clouds above, where the other spirits and ghouls and hosts could see it. Let them, Norman could almost feel smugly proud that they could be jealous of holding their most adorable denizen's heart.

Norman stepped forward when he hear d a huff of a breath being taken in, sharp and somewhat labored. The girl in front of him was on her hands and knees, trying to steady herself on shaky limbs.

"A-…Aggie?" he dared to whisper. He put his hands out carefully, not sure if this was his darling, or some cruel hoax of a demon…or worse. He set his now rather masculine jawline and took a hesitant step forward.

The girl was still uttering a strange incantation .. Then, she raised her head to meet his eyes.

"N-Norman?"

His heart melted down into the cool, moist earth below them as he kneeled down to come face to face with her lovely, pale blue eyes.

"I'm right here, Aggie," he said warmly. "It looks like it must have worked, huh?" He gave her a lopsided smile, and pickup up her clammy hands.

She gave him a short laugh before throwing herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. Like he was her literal and figurative anchor to the mortal world.

"Norman…" she mewled. "Norman…one night. We get one night…until next year. The barrier is weak until sunrise." She pulled away and stared into him. He stroked her face with his hand, not quite fully able to take it all in. She was here, and they had _hours_. What might have been taken for granted by any other couple seemed like the most incredible blessing to them.

"What…what should we do?" she asked breathlessly, brimming with shock and excitement over the spell putting her on the mortal coil for the evening of All Hollow's Eve.

"Well…first thing's first," Norman answered, pulling her in for a loving kiss.

He pulled her back into his chest, holding her tightly. "Little ghost, little ghost..." he sang quietly into her ear. She hugged him tighter, half laughing, and half crying with joy. They rocked back and forth for a few precious moments, Norman singing his love to her alone, all over again.


	3. The Alpha

Little scene inspired by something a friend said...

* * *

The world had gone mad.

Dirt and earth rose up into the air, propelled only by her virulent will. The air tasted like sulfur and heartache. The wind whipped Norman's hair sideways as the yellow glow descended upon him.

"You don't understand the way it is!" his tormentor shouted, her figure crooked and scowling.

"I understand enough to know that you're just bluffing!" he fired back, running away from her grasp yet again. "You're just trying to get what you want, but you can't have it!"

"Enough!"

The wind blasted him into a tree and pinned him there. Her form radiated with power, hovering over him.

Agatha lowered herself to his eye level, boring a hole through his mind with her gaze.

"I'm enjoying this," she said, much softer now, and almost…teasingly? Flirtatiously?

Such is what an onlooker would surely have wondered if they could have seen it, as the frightening ghost witch flickered back into her soft, beauteous form, an instant before she covered her quarry's mouth with her own. They both sighed into each other, pressed against the tree, trying to meld into one.

"I told you," Aggie said through half closed eyes. She pecked him again before muttering against his lips. "I'm the alpha in this relationship."

"Only because I like it," was Norman's only retort. They had more pleasant things to discuss with each other.


	4. The Problem We All Live With

To you, my dears.

And for you, my fandom.

* * *

Norman sighed deeply. This would be the first walk to school he found himself dreading since…since before he started talking to the spirits. Which put it squarely at before he could even remember.

The usual cast of characters was there, that part he didn't mind. No issues with any of them, nothing new to see with any of them either by the looks of it. He continued his walk, lamenting the mild, sunny weather. It wasn't fair to have to do this on such a beautiful day.

He approached the usual crosswalk, the one he normally looked forward to more than anything in the hours before school let out. His steps began to halve, and then halve again, fading into a slow trudge. Pebbles kicked out onto the road, run over by a passing car. When he heard the giggle, his heart instinctively fluttered, and he half wished he could have joined those pebbles over having to face her now.  
He heard a wisp coming down from the ledge beside him, felt the cool touch of an ethereal body hugging him. _If this is the last time..._ he thought, _I-I can't…_

"Good morning Norman," Agatha greeted, her hint of a smile giving away her excitement despite her demure tone. "Are you well?"

Norman breathed in deeply.

"I'm fine Aggie…um, listen…" he said, hesitance muddling his voice.

"I'm listening, but speak quickly Norman," Agatha retorted playfully.

"…right. Well, you see," Norman tried to begin, but he couldn't find the words. His hands began to roll over themselves to compensate for his lack of eloquence. "Ah, well, I've been thinking. A lot. About…things."

"This is nothing new, Norman," Agatha responded.

"I know, but-just, let me get this over with. Aggie…Agatha…"

He shuffled his feet, still unsure whether he could follow through with this

"I've been thinking a lot, and some people have been giving me some new things to think about, and…"

It was all he could do to choke back the tear.

"I think we should stop seeing each other. It's…not right."

Agatha Prenderghast's heart broke in a fit of yellow sparks, bursting from her ghostly form, then faded into cold resignation.

"I understand Norman," she said in a sweet, quivering voice, the same one he'd heard all those years ago, when she had realized the extent of her madness.

"It's not your fault Aggie,' Norman pleaded, "it's just…we're too close. We're _related_. And…that makes it not okay. You know?"

Agatha turned away from him, slow and near mourning.

"I don't know _what_ I know sometimes, Norman Babcock. Thank you," she uttered as she began to rise into the air. "And…good bye."

And she faded into the breeze, leaving a lonely boy in her wake. He continued the march to school, trying to remember just why and how he was convinced this was a good idea at all.

* * *

Norman sat in his homeroom seat, next to Neil. Even his best friend, try as he might, couldn't break him free of his stupor. Neil was chittering on about some sort of new game hack, but Norman's thoughts were confined inward. He thought back to how this all started…

_It was a Sunday. Norman was at Neil's house, hanging out with Mitch and his boyfriend. His name was James, he was nearly as tall as Mitch, but thin. Very lean, lanky. Soft brown hair. Green eyes. Permanent twinkle in his eyes. Norman thought he was nice enough. First time meeting him._

_ They were eating lunch, tuna fish sandwiches. Norman sat back shyly as Mitch and Neil told the story of how he saved the town. That's when it all went wrong._

_ "That's amazing, Norman!" James exclaimed. "You're just…I can't believe anyone could be anything but a fan of yours after that! And I mean that, you should have a fan club and the works!"_

_ Norman slouched and gave the young man a meek smile. "Thank you," was his simple response._

_ "Yeah, Norman's pretty awesome," Neil chimed in. "The other kids don't get him though, It stinks. I mean, I know he still has that stalagmite hair thing going…" Neil cheekily flicked at Norman's infamous spikes, "…and his dating life is kinda out there, but I don't know. It's weird."_

_ "Come again?" James asked. "What was that about his dating life?" Clearly, this was a topic of great interest to such a prodigious fan of romantic films. Norman should have known, but that didn't stop the pink from flooding to his ears._

_ "Oh, nothing big," Mitch droned, giving James's hand a squeeze. "he just dates this ghost chick, the crazy one. It's like something out of one of your flicks, Jim,"_

_ Norman slumped further into his chair. He took a nibble out of his sandwich._

_ "Well that's something else. So who is she? How long have you two been dating? Is this just a fling, or is this your long lost soulmate there, little fella?" James pressed, now leaning over the table excitedly._

_ Norman cleared his throat and slid his back up the chair to face him. "Ah, she's….she's special to me. I don't want to be apart from her any time soon so…I guess it's long term? I hope?" he prattle on, hoping it would satisfy. It didn't._

_ "Where's she from? How long ago did she, you know?"_

_ "Er, that's kind of tough to talk about," Norman replied, rubbing the back of his neck and turning his head to the suddenly fascinating floor. "She died a long time ago."_

_ That's when Neil, bless his heart in spite of it all, said _it_._

_ "yeah, like 300 years! That's why it's no big deal she's like, his aunt. Or his cousin, or something. Kinda sorta."_

_ James's face scrunched, like he'd just tasted something bitter. Like he'd just bitten into the lemon seed in what had been the most delicious plate of shrimp scampi, like he'd had a bite of a birthday cake made from rotten milk._

_ "Oh," he said, voice dull and hollow. "That's…hm." He sighed, almost a huff. "That's a little…I don't know about that Norman."_

_ Norman looked him in the eye, heart quickening in flight-or-fight instincts. "What, what's the problem?" He already knew what James would say, but he couldn't help himself._

_ "Well, little guy, surely you realize," James began, matter of fact in the way he now postured himself up to preen over Norman, "Your little puppy love relationship is just…kind of _wrong_. It's a little icky to date your own relative, I think." He turned to his beau. "Don't you agree, Mitch?"_

_ "Uh, yeah. Yeah sure," Mitch agreed, not really sure he knew what was being argued._

_ "But, we have something special," Norman responded, trying to find the fire he needed. "It's something real, we care for each other, we…we feel safe in ways we've never felt before-"_

_ "Oh, I do wonder why _that_ is," James countered. "Nothing closer than keeping it all in the family, I'm sure. Of course you're close, like brother and sister, and that's adorable! Really. I'm not saying stop talking to this little ghost girl," James reached out across the table to Norman, who looked at him incredulously, "but you might want to reconsider the nature of that…bond. If that's what you want to call it. You have to agree, it's just not _right_ to be with your relative in 'that way'. At least admit you're being kind of a creepy deviant here, little buddy. You're a nice young man, but it's your _relative_, hun."_

_ "Of 300 years ago. I don't even think it's a direct line…" Norman didn't reach back for the outstretched hand._

_ "Whatever makes you feel better about it, but if I were you I'd rethink things. Look at it like a _mature_ person. It just makes me feel all skivvy! Yeash."_

_ "But…what about the way _I _feel," Norman asked, eyes glistening. "I mean, what about you and Mitch? Some people in town don't like that either."_

_ James waved his hand dismissively. "That's _different_. Any reasonable person can see the difference. We're just celebrating love," James gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek, "and don't let them lie to you. We're not harming anybody, we just want to be ourselves."_

_ Why can't I be myself? Norman thought, but no words could come out of his open mouth. His world was turning upside down._

_ Neil changed the subject, with a proclamation of how great a run to the ice cream stand would be on such a fine day. No one could disagree. Least of all Norman, who was all out of argument, and rapidly running out of the love that had made him feel whole again._

* * *

"NORMAN!"

Norman's thoughts were immediately torn back to the real world. He heard rampant sniggering surround him, as he stared back at his glaring teacher.

"Uh, sorry Ms. Lowell," he apologized.

"Hmph. You can make it up to me by answering the question. _Correctly_." The old woman beamed down on him with nary a blink.

"Um, yes ma'am," Norman replied.

He stared at the board. This class was biology, apparently doing genetic calculations. The numbers on the board were making him break out in a sweat, scattered incoherently as they were. He took a deep breath through the nose with a tightly set jaw and focused.

He spotted the question written on the board: _Calculate the coefficient of relationship for a set of first cousins, once removed._

Norman remembered learning this in the homework, vaguely. "Um, that would be…five steps between each other…2 paths through the common ancestor couple…2 times one half to the fifth power…"

He frantically typed away on the calculator, sitting at his desk, covered in horror movie stickers since the last year of middle school.

"That's…6.25%, ma'am"

The old woman smirked. "Well, very good Mr. Babcock. As you can see class, the expected percentage of homozygosity declines rapidly, but is still quite realistic and troublesome in immediate relatives…"

The teacher had returned to writing on the board again, but Norman wasn't taking the standard notes. He was scrawling his own calculation on his notebook, next to a doodle of Aggie he hadn't quite had the heart to scratch out yet.

_300 years…that's got to be about 10 generations,_ he mused. _And I think Aggie was an only child, so at worst we're cousins 10 times removed…_

Punching in the numbers, he stared down at the tiny LCD screen and saw a result he should have known deep down.

_Closest we could be…is barely a percent of a percent._

It was at that moment that the bell rang, but the bells on Norman's head had only just begun to ring that day.

* * *

"And as a matter of fact, FDR was full of really interesting little facts," quipped Norman's history teacher, Mr. Cabot. Young teacher; tall build, sandy hair. The crush of every girl in school. Norman had gotten along fine with the man, partly because he previously hadn't had a reason to be jealous, and partly because he was just as interested in odd and arguably useless knowledge.

"For instance," Mr. Cabot continued, walking through the rows of the class with a big smile and animated hands, "he loved his dog, Fala, very much. Fala really went everywhere with him, you see him in many of Roosevelt's photos. He used Fala as a PR tool too. He once famously joked that Fala objected to the Republican statements being made against his dog and family, stating: "_I am accustomed to hearing malicious falsehoods about myself — such as that old, worm-eaten chestnut that I have represented myself as indispensable. But I think I have a right to resent, to object, to libelous statements about my dog!_"

The girls in the class tittered. Norman couldn't help but chuckle a bit himself.

"And did you know that Eleanor Roosevelt, the famous First Lady, was actually FDR's fifth cousin, once removed?"

Norman couldn't believe the day he was having at this rate…

"Yeah it's true, they were distantly related. No real controversy or complications came of it though," Mr. Cabot just had to stop and grin at Norman, of all people, in his usual manner. No way he could have known, but still…

"At that point, it's just not even really a factor, socially or biologically. Eleanor's uncle, former president Teddy Roosevelt was even quite in support of the relationship. Now, moving on to FDR's impact on American politics…"

Norman had to bite his tongue to keep from asking about what his teacher thought of cousins with double digits in the relationship title.

* * *

Norman walked back from school with Neil, it made him feel better to have his best "bro" friend by his side, just being himself.

"And wait till' you play as Black Knight, he freakin' _tears_ through zombie hordes!" Neil said with unmatchable gusto.

"That sounds awesome Neil," Norman agreed, his shy smile drifting on the side of his face.

As they approached the house, Norman's face fell immediately. Sitting there, holding hands on the front porch in identical lawn chairs were Mitch and James.

"What's up, bros?" Mitch greeted.

"Aw nothing much, Mitch. Just back from school. You know what Dad always says, same crap different toilet!" Neil chirped.

"Awww…yeah, that's cool," Mitch droned in reply.

Norman nodded and smiled politely, trying to slink away into the house undetected. As should have been expected, he failed.

"Hey little buddy," said James, "figured anything out lately? You look kinda down." He smirked. "I hope you don't take _too_ long to get over it, if it's what I'm thinking. You're too cute to stay single for long!"

The twinkle in his eyes didn't look so charming anymore. And Norman had had quite enough of that smug smirk, too. And…come to think of it…

"You know James, I _have_ figured some things out," Norman said with tightly clinched fists. He turned to face his troubles literally head on. His hair had never been spikier, his posture had never stood straighter. For the first time in awhile, Norman commanded what could only be described as "authority".

"I learned a lot of things today…in and out of class," Norman began, careful to keep his tone measured. "I learned that cousins with _300 years_ of separation have enough common genetics to reasonably round down to zero, when you crunch the numbers."

James kept a poker face, but Norman saw the twinkle flicker. At least that's what he thought he saw.

"Well, that's nice. I'm sure that makes the memories a bit _easier_, on a technicality…"

"And I learned just about no one really cares about even fifth cousins, once removed," Norman pressed on. "Much less something like ten times removed. Have you ever heard of the Roosevelt's?"

James's expression turned to one of annoyance. "Well of _course_ I've heard of them!"

"Then you know Franklin and Eleanor were fifth cousins, once removed, right?"

"What does it matter what some yahoos from the stone age thought? They were backwards anyway!" James said with exasperation. "Do you think _they_ ever would have allowed what Mitch and I have together?"

"But that's just the thing." Norman argued, his own voice starting to change with increased fervor. "You care about fixing bigotry when it's to help yourself. But just like people shouldn't hate you or hurt you for your love being a little different," he continued, "you shouldn't be so hard on others who are different from you! Isn't that what everyone wants?" Norman's eyes grew pleading as he shifted to a gentler approach. "Tolerance? Open-mindedness? Just...letting each other be? Neither of us is trying to force how we love down anyone's throat, and both of us are happy being ourselves, with what and who and how we love…"

Norman's gaze shifted to the floor, speaking almost to himself now.

"So why bother with troubling anyone else about their love? Why can't we all just give each other the same kindness we all want for ourselves?" He looked up again, to the practically captive audience of his emotional outpouring.

"Isn't that the problem we all live with?"

The other boys just stared at Norman. Neil was practically hiding behind Mitch's bulky arm, waiting to see what would happen next.

James shifted around in his seat, face set and taut.

"Well…I never told you _not_ to date her…it…whatever you call a ghost thing, I suppose," James said tensely. "I just…wanted to point it out. So you realized, how it might _look_."

"I don't care how we _look_, I care about us. How we _feel_ together."

"Right, of course, but it's just-squicky, to me,"

"To _you_. Some people in this town might find you and Mitch 'squicky', but that's just their opinion! They shouldn't keep trying to push that on you, or keep you two apart or say mean things about you over that either. It wouldn't be fair, but right now I don't think you're being fair to me and Aggie."

"Fair? Oh come on, Norman, I'm not doing _anything_ like making fun of you or 'stopping you from seeing her'," he said, now almost derisive in his frustration. "I just wanted you to recognize that it's so different and that so many people probably think it's wrong too." He leaned forward, flinging out his hand cajolingly. "I mean, you have to admit. _Have_ to, I mean really! You have to admit it's just _weird_ and _gross_. I'm not telling you what to do of course, oh no. I'm just looking out for you. I just want to make sure you realize you're a _deviant_, so that you use more _discretion_."

Norman stared him down, blankly, eyebrows knit tight.

"If you weren't really bothered by it…I don't think you'd need to point it out so much. You wouldn't need me or her to admit something like that," said Norman. "And I don't think you'd appreciate anyone doing that to you…I don't think that's being kind or mature at all. So yeah, I'll use more discretion about who I need in my life, that's for sure."

He let his fists unclench.

"And one more thing I learned…I learned a lot about how much the people I love mean to me," he said, with conviction. "And I learned how easy it is to lose all of that…how much words can hurt the people around you."

He looked at Neil, and jerked his head toward the house.

"Hey Neil, do you think you could bring your game to my house? We can play it there, Mom might make those little pizza bagels if we ask nice enough."

Neil's face lit up, then calmed down as he realized the situation.

"Oh, oh yeah Norman. We can totally do that." He looked at his brother expectantly. "Can we do that?"

Mitch nodded, face still relaxed. James opened his mouth to speak, but Mitch squeezed his hand, and James relented.

It would be a long walk back, and Norman found himself feeling better with every step he took. Like dirt shaking off muddy sneakers, he felt his heart being freed. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

It was just past twilight by the time Norman and Neil said their farewells, and parted for the evening. Norman could still see the last vestiges of light in the far western horizon, but street lamps had taken over as Norman's source of light, out on the lonely sidewalk. The clouds kept the moon hidden. He walked with a shuffle, watching the pebbles flit off onto the nearby asphalt. He knew to stop when he saw one carom off a decaying stop sign into an all too familiar crosswalk.

"_Why did you come here now?_"

The soft, yet penetrating voice he heard from the ledge to his left convinced him to pick up his head. His hunch was right. She was here.

"Hi Aggie," he said with his gentlest tone.

"_Why_, Norman?" she shot back. So much for tender greetings. This would be as hard as he thought.

"Because, you know, I kind of figured you'd be here," he answered, sheepishly. His ears burned red.

"That's not very smart of you," she warned. He saw the energy crackle in her face. "I'm still mad at you. _So_ mad."

"I know," he admitted, barely above a whisper. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but took a step toward her. "I also knew you still cared enough to stick around. You still wanted to watch over me, didn't you?"

Aggie's face scrunched in a look of deep, abiding emotional turmoil. She turned away from him, floating with her knees held tight to her chest in her usual posture when she was under emotional duress.

"Don't give yourself so much credit, Norman Babcock," she said. His last name was a bad sign. "I just…wanted to make sure you were okay, even though you don't deserve it. And I still…I still don't believe you." She floated back around to face him, centimeters away from his face. He could quite literally and figuratively see the depths of her soul now.

"I still couldn't believe you meant the things you said." She backed away, slowly. Her arms crossed her chest protectively. Only now did he notice the tear stains. Could ghosts really get those? He put the thought aside for later.

She continued on, Norman content to listen for now. "I went back to the tree but…it hurt too much. So I came back here, to let it out…and I thought that maybe…_maybe_ you'd…" Her shrinking voice tore at his aching heart, and he fought the urge not to sweep her up in an embrace right there and then. He waited a few long, precious moments before speaking.

"Aggie...I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so, so sorry. You're right about everything. Everything." His hands came out of his pockets, and he made a tentative reach out to her hand. It stayed tucked under her arm, but she didn't shake him off.

"And I don't deserve you, not really. But…I do need you, more than I realized." He swallowed hard. "I wish I could take back everything I said, because I hurt you, and I hurt me. I hurt _us_. I let myself be and feel what somebody else wanted, and I'm really, _really_ truly sorry for that."

Norman's lip quivered, eyes fixated on her in hopes she'd lift her head and see how much he meant every word now.

"But I figured a lot of things out today-about myself, and the people around me. And the truth is…I do care about you deeply, Aggie. And I don't care who knows it, or what they think about it. I just care that you're here, wishing me well at school, holding me close after a bad day…watching over me even when I don't deserve you anymore."

She finally lifted her head to match his stare. Norman felt dizzy with the sight of her bright blue eyes staring back at him, charged with the tenderness he was seeing. Norman touched her face, stroking it softly.

"I…want to go back, Aggie. To the way things were. If you'll still have me." He was finished now, ready to receive her judgment, whichever way it turned. Agatha stared him down with a rapidly shifting gaze, ranging every emotion and feeling she'd probably ever felt in her existence as a girl and a spirit, and probably many more she'd never experienced before at all.

"You are still a fool, and I am still mad at you for hurting the both of us, Norman Babcock," she said, with a potent confidence now. "But," she wrapped her arms around him and lifted her head up, mouth pouting, "as long as you promise me, never, ever get scared and run like that again…"

She drifted closer.

"…and let it change who you are, like you once told me…"

He hugged her tighter.

"…without _talking_ to me _first_….then I think…I could have you back in that special place in my heart…the one Mommy told me to guard well, closer than anything in the world…"

Her pout was a breath away from his own mouth now.

"Promise me? Please?"

Norman nuzzled her nose with his own, and closed the distance with a sweet, loving kiss. They stayed that way for what might as well have been another lifetime.

"I promise, Aggie."

They smiled at each other, and repeated the promise in each other's arms long into the night. They would never lack the courage to face the problem we all live with ever again, not as long as they had each other.


	5. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night II

_I'll be releasing pieces of this every so often until Halloween night._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

When they finally came to grips with their great fortune, they decided that of all the infinite number of things they could spend their time as a flesh and blood couple doing, a simple moonlit walk would be the best way to start. Back to Norman's house. There were costumes to try on, of course, and perhaps even a family member or two who might be curious to meet this girl their son had insisted on falling for.

They walked hand in hand, enjoying the simple closeness. A cool, gentle breeze passed over their faces, as though their forest itself was congratulating them on this precious gift. Agatha seemed to shiver slightly, but Norman soothed her with a tug in closer to his radiating warmth. They smiled, words not really needed. Neither could remember being this truly happy; fitting, as only pair such as they could find a desolate forest of trees, thoroughly deadened for the winter on a night to celebrate the macabre as a romantic dream come true. "Normal" was not in their cards, and neither could care less.

"Norman," Agatha asked sweetly, " does this mean we're finally courting?"

Norman gave her a sideways, lopsided glance, with a smile he couldn't possibly let go if he tried. "I thought we were _already_ 'courting', Aggie,"

"I think this makes it more official," she said, squeezing his hand. "Do you…you do still think I'm, um-pretty? Right? You do still think I'm pretty enough to be your girlfriend, now that you see me here in your world…" she mumbled, brushing her hair back and allowing her gaze to wander restlessly.

Norman stopped their tracks right there, on the edge of the tow. His stare, straight and deep into the farthest depths of her eyes and the flicker of her soul, was a mix of sincere tenderness and intense conviction.

"Agatha Prenderghast…you are the most beautiful, most wonderful girl I've met, living or dead."

"Well, I just wasn't sure…because the other children in the village, they were-they were scared too, and they said I looked like a mean old witch too…"

"I don't care what any of them said. I don't care that we have to span 300 years, all I care about," Norman said as he clasped both of her tiny hands in his, "is if you'll go out with me tonight, as my date. For Halloween. Please?" he asked, kneeling his forehead against hers.

She looked up at him and found her smiling returning, along with her rosy blush.

"…okay Norman, I will be your date." She giggled as she leaned in closer for a kiss.

"Even though I'm kind of a weird, outcast goofball myself?" Norman murmured against her lips.

"I have never heard of such a term," Agatha said, silencing him with her lips again, "but I hope it means 'handsome hero of a boy'. That's the only term that fits you, Norman Babcock."

For such a cute, innocent looking girl, Agatha sure knew how to work a guy into a stupor with her feminine charms, Norman mused to himself.

"Come on," he said, breaking away and lacing his fingers with hers again. "Let's go, we have a lot to do tonight."


	6. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night III

Norman and Agatha wandered into the town. The streets were alight in the ages-old Blithe Hollow tradition of Halloween. Spooky scenes of skeletons and zombies adorned every door and storefront, fake body parts were strewn about every lawn, spiders and vermin infested every uncovered crevice, all awash in a sea of orange, black and purple lights. All for the joys of the populace, and the tourists their little town's dark history drew in. A few dollars worth of spider webbing, and the dignity that came in exploiting a poor little girl's tragic execution were all too easy a price to pay for the prosperity the macabre brought.

Smiles among the grisly fun were not in short supply. Children ran from door to door, shouting for tricks, or treats, and receiving the latter in spades. Their masked and made up faces ran the gamut from scary to whimsical, while the adults sauntered around in bizarre and publically condoned displays of intoxicated fantasy exhibitionism.

It was nothing short of overwhelming for an innocent girl Puritan-era Massachusetts. Agatha's hand gripped Norman's in a death grip.

"N-Norman," she whispered, "what…what are they doing?"

Norman gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and leaned in close to whisper back at her. "It's that All Hallow's Eve celebration I told you about, remember?" he said patiently. "Don't worry, it's not real. It's just…taking something scary and turning it into something fun."

Agatha started to relax, until they passed under a sign with a witch hanging from it in effigy.

"_Hang out at the Witch's Cauldron! Drink specials every Monday and Thursday night!"_

Agatha began to shudder. Norman put his arm around her and held her tight, leading her quickly into an alleyway where they could have some privacy away from the quizzical stares the trick-or-treaters were giving them. Agatha was tightening not a little ball under Norman's arm.

"Well…some of it is…" Norman stuttered, trying to find the words. How could he explain what her terrible fate had become? A marketing ploy for other people's amusement?

"Aggie," he started over, stroking her hair to soothe her. "I'm sorry, some of it is…some of it shouldn't be made fun of like that."

She made a pained, frightened babble now, the slow realization hitting her in ways she couldn't fully process. Norman continued to hold her close, leaning his head over hers and nuzzling her crown softly. He rubbed her arms and back in even, steady stokes. Despite the agony of seeing the object of his affections in such pain, he couldn't help but feel blessed with being able to hold her like this. He'd been able to feel her, well enough, as a ghost, but this-this was something else. She was unbelievably soft, and smelled as sweetly as she did in their dream world. Wildflowers, freshly picked on the border of Summer and Autumn. Her hair was like a black sheet of silk, and her breath was warm and sweet on his chest, even as it came in short heaves of tears.

Slowly but surely, her breathing began to return to normal, and the tears finished their outpouring. Her sobs faded into whimpers, and she buried her face deeper into Norman's shirt. Her ran his fingers along her head and face, reminding her that he was still there, still there and not going anywhere.

"Norman," she squeaked, barely able ot speak again. "I don't like…how they…they made me _suffer_ Norman," she sobbed. "And they think it's a funny _story_…"

"I know Aggie," Norman reassured her, swaying back and forth to rock her gently. "They don't know. They're still-they're still _scared_, because they don't know the real you." He planted a tender kiss to her forehead, before sliding his hand to cup her cheek lifting her face to look into his cool blue eyes. "So they try to make it into something else, even though it's not the truth, and it's hurtful. But I know the real you, and I'm still more sorry than I can ever make you know, Aggie."

He kissed her once and pulled back to continue. "I'm sorry they can't know the real you…but tonight," he said, leaning his forehead to hers, "we can do our best, to show some of them, right?" He gave her his warm, slow smile, the one that still made her swoon like a much smaller school girl.

"…okay Norman," she obliged. She closed her eyes pressed her cheek to his. "I trust you…it still hurts," she mewled into his ear, "but I'll be strong. For us, so we can still have this night together."

They both turned their faces in to the other, and kissed each other deeply. They stayed there for a good, long while, kisses deepening as they kissed the pain away and replaced it with affection and conviction. Agatha sighed into Norman's mouth contentedly, and he knew she was ready to continue their evening's journey. He broke free and sealed the promises they'd just silently made to each other with one last warm, lingering buss in the middle of the rapidly chilling air, and clasped her hand again.

They passed by many more displays of Agatha's grim fate, but she would not flinch in the face of them any longer. Not as long as Norman was there, her anchor in the vast ocean of time and culture she'd crossed for them both.


	7. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night IV

The Babcock household looked just short of haunted, bathed in the dull glow of an October's full moon and flanked by crinkled corpses of Summer's lush green leaves. The air had only just gone from cool to downright chilly now, just as Norman and Agatha reached the front door hand in hand. Norman allowed himself to shiver at least once more, less because of the chill and more because of the sensation of Agatha's tiny, flesh-and-blood hand inside his own.

"Are you ready, Aggie?" Norman asked her.

"Yes," she assured, "If I want to be a _part_ of your family, I need to _meet _your family first." A blush Norman had never seen in her usual ghostly form settled over her face just as soon as she realized what had just left her mouth. Norman couldn't help but blush in return, with as dopey a grin as he'd ever mustered before.

"Yeah, that's true," he said, reaching up to turn the doorknob and enter.

Walking though the threshold into the Babcock household was like walking through a portal of sorts. The home was warm, cozy, and everything the eerie scenery outside was not. Norman's mother was pulling some sort of orange tinged novelty cookies from the oven, with a token set of cat ears on her head. His father sat nearby, reading a TV guide ("the good old-fashioned, All-American way," as he put it once to Norman) in hopes of finding a suitable Halloween special for the evening. The air smelled of sugar and spices, with a faint hint of pumpkin guts leftover from the night before.

It was only now that Norman suddenly remembered he was standing there holding a _girl's_ hand, with his parents now noticing his entrance, and looking rather intently at the sight before them.

"Um…hi Mom, hi Dad," Norman greeted. "How's…everything?" His awkward attempt at an easy-going smile did little to ease the atmosphere. His father looked as though eyeing a curious new species. His mother gave a far more comforting look of affection.

"We're fine, dear. It's going to be a great Halloween for everyone," she said with the usual warmth in her voice. She stopped her baking and wiped off her hands before walking over to the couple, slowly but without pretense. She stood in front of Agatha and bent over slightly, hands clasped together.

"Hi there, young lady," she whispered in a way only a mother could muster. Agatha smiled back shyly. "You must be the one who stole my little guy's heart, right?"

Agatha took a moment to compose the words, unsure why she felt so shy in the presence of such a nice woman. In her village this would have been a strong implication that Norman wanted to _marry_ her, but Norman had also explained that things were…different now, when it came to "courting".

"Yes, Goody Babcock-I mean, Mrs. Babcock," Agatha replied, trying to use the modern speech Norman had taught her.

"Well, I'm glad. You seem like a beautiful young woman," Norman's mother said. She pulled orange icing from a cabinet and went to work on the confections. "I hope you and Norman have a good time tonight, I know you won't be able to stay for long," she added.

"…yes," Agatha chimed, her posture going rigid. "I promise you we will be safe, and make the best of our time together here," she prattled. She chewed on her lip before finding the right words to continue.

"I, um…I promise I am not doing this to make your son's heartache _worse_."

"Aggie…" Norman whispered in concern.

"I-we…just couldn't bear _not_ taking an opportunity. Even just this one small one. It means a lot to both of us." She glanced back at Norman, who smirked in a silent confirmation. His mother walked over with dainty steps, stopping before Agatha and regarding her carefully. It seemed to be a lifetime of moments, before her arms opened up and she gave Agatha a brief hug.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said. Agatha's breath caught in her throat, just before Mrs. Babcock pulled away. "I can see…you'll take good care of Norman. And he'll be there for you, I know him. So just, have fun, the both of you."

She swallowed back the emotion in her voice and moved over to her husband, clutching his shoulders affectionately. Agatha looked incredulous, as though a deep seated nerve had been tapped into, and it was almost overwhelming. Norman gave her hand a squeeze to bring her back to reality.

"Dear, wouldn't you like to meet Norman's girlfriend too?"

Norman's father hesitated for a moment. He drew down the TV guide to regard this new visitor directly, bearing a perplexed expression as though examining a rather odd insect his son had brought home as a child. There was something else there too, deep in the wrinkles on his forehead. It was reflected in the gleam of a faint sheen of sweat. Norman's father was, for the first time since Norman could remember, more than a little nervous.

He cleared his throat as he shuffled in his seat to get a better look at this girl his son refused to let go of, now starting him back in the face.

"So…er, Aggie, is it? It's Aggie, right?" he asked, trying hard not to be rude but unable to totally suspend his unease at the situation. Agatha nodded politely.

"Yes, sir," she replied, "Agatha Prenderghast."

"Right, right," the older man rambled, leaning forward and hunching in his seat. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Norman and his mother remained a step away from their partners, hoping their support would see the meeting through. The trees rattled as the wind picked up outside. "Prenderghast…geez, like that crazy uncle of his…"

"It's…a good 300 year gap in relation, sir. It isn't very much."

Norman's father stared at them incredulously.

"Hrm, as if this had to get any weirder. What is this family coming to on my watch…" He rubbed his face absent-mindedly, trying to make sense of things.

"So, erm, did you…have a nice trip?" he asked.

"Pardon, Mr. Babcock?"

"Oh, you know what I mean, from the-eh, other side. To our world! Was it, ya know, okay?"

Mrs. Babcock stroked her husband's back. "I'm sure she was fine, dear, don't worry about _that_."

"I just want to know, I'm just making conversation is all!"

Agatha raised her hand in concentration, then opened her mouth to speak.

"It wasn't painful, sir," she answered. "It was…tiring, but it was worth it. I wanted to see your son and the people closest to him very much."

Mr. Babcock was frozen on the verge of a meltdown. Agatha's statement seemed to wick his stress away, as he sank back into his seat. His wife rested her hands on his shoulders supportively.

"Oh, yeah. Well, that's good. That's a good thing, for sure."

He averted his eyes away from her, looking out the window. The trees had stopped rustling, and their leaves were nearly all upon the ground now.

"You know," he said, looking over to Agatha, "it's a real nice thing you've done for my boy, giving him someone to…be so close to. As a girl, I mean. And a friend…not that I don't like Neil or anything, you just, you know what I mean."

Norman squeezed her hand once more, brushing it with his thumb. He knew quite a lot about the power of one's touch for someone who'd only just now had a girlfriend in the physical world.

"So, thanks for giving him that. Helping his confidence, helping him turn into a man." Norman's ears immediately grew red as he eyed his father in shock. "Turned him into a real man, and you…you're a part of that, it looks like. Even if I don't know if I could've believed it before. Nice to finally meet you, Aggie,"

Whether Agatha's or Norman's heart was more fit to burst with such a statement, neither could say. All they could do was respond with graciousness.

"Th-thank you sir," Agatha said. "I'm glad. That I could help Norman, and that you can see the kind of person he is more clearly."

Mr. Babcock chuckled with a jerk of his head. "Yeah," he added, "you could say that. Have fun, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Before any further emotionally charged revelations could be made, the pointed sound of the lightweight footstomps of a cheerleader barreling down the steps reverberated through the downstairs. Courtney blew into the scene, yammering away on her cell phone in a decidedly provocative nurse's uniform.

"Ohmy_gawd_ no! She _isn't_? With those legs? Becky, no shoes in the _world_ can make that costume work for her!"

The girl sauntered her way to the kitchen, plucking a fresh cookie from the sheet before her mother ever had chance to ice it. "Mm hm…mm hm, I know! I-wow, these are really good Mom-I told her-"

She paused abruptly, suddenly aware of the surrounding company. Agatha smirked and made a small gesture, almost a curtsey.

"…I gotta call you back Becky." She hung up the call, still transfixed on the new visitor. Courtney stood that way until defaulting into a familiar posture, hand on her hip while one arm hung loose. She glared at the girl with her head cocked upright from her tilted body.

"And just who exactly do you think _you_ are, holding my brother's hand like that?"

Agatha's eyes closed slightly with nerves, and she gasped under her breath. This was exactly why she had told Norman, every day for the past month, that she was exceedingly nervous about meeting his family.

"_There's just so much to explain!" she'd protested. "And you know they'll be protective of you, how will they trust me?"_

_"I trust you, Aggie," he'd said. "They'll be fine, I promise._"

Norman had yet to fail a promise to her. Still, the look his sister was giving was enough to leave her tongue tied.

"I'm, um, Agatha. Agatha Prenderghast." Agatha said. "Pleased to meet you."

Courtney's nose scrunched. "Prenderghast? Like our uncle?"

Agatha rolled her eyes to the side to glance at Norman, in an effort to hide her exasperation. His softer gaze steadied her, as it always did.

"Whatever, I still want to know who you are, and what your intentions are toward my little brother," Courtney continued, eyes blazing with her trademark fervor.

"Courtney, this is Norman's _special_ friend," her mother cajoled. "You know, the one we haven't been _able_ to meet yet."

Courtney's glare suddenly evaporated, and a look of cold realization hit her hard. She straightened out and raised her hands to her mouth in shock.

"Oh em gee! You aren't…you can't be? You are, aren't you?" she rambled excitedly.

Agatha shifted her weight around. "I think I am, if I understand you well…" She cast her stare at the floor, wringing her hands.

"You are!" Courtney squealed, dashing over to pick up Agatha's hands in her own and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You're that ghost girl, the one he can't get over! Aggie! I thought you were some girl form school playing games with him. Because, you know," she dropped her voice, "that's how girls _are _sometimes, especially with the nice ones. I know you know what I mean, right? Of course you do. But I know any girl who sticks around a guy after she's _dead_ has to be serious."

Agatha looked perplexed, but agreed anyway to be polite. "Um, yes. Of course. I'm happy to meet you too."

Courtney sprang back to full height, still clutching the new girl's hands. "So, are you two going out tonight? Halloween _date night_? Too adorable!"

She drew back, and began to psedo-model her outfit. Norman nearly felt the urge to avert his eyes.

"I'm dateless right now myself, but I'm thinking it won't be long now, couple hours tops in this thing," she said confidently. "But Aggie, if you need any help at all, and I mean _any_ with your hair or makeup or whatever for your costume, you just let me know, okay?"

Agatha smiled, genuinely now. "Yes, thank you so much for your kindness!" It felt good to find this acceptance in such a lovely family. It was something she had been certain she'd never feel again…

Courtney smiled back, before turning a sisterly glare at Norman. "You did tell her about costumes right? And everything else? I don't have to tell you to be a _gentleman_ tonight, do I Norman?"

Norman smirked in kind, rolling his eyes. "Yes Courtney, we've had it all planned out for awhile now." _Down to the smallest mystical and magical detail_, he thought to himself. "I'll take care of her, we'll be _fine_."

"Chip off the old block!" his father piped from the table. "Regular old lover boy, just like his old man!"

His wife slapped his shoulder teasingly.

"You're going to be back by curfew tonight, right Courtney?" she asked.

Courtney huffed. "Yes, _mother_. Unless Andrea has that spare bedroom, but I'll _call_, just like I promised _ weeks_ ago," she said, as though it the entire plan was in plain sight.

"Sounds good, darling," her mother acknowledged patiently.

Norman slipped his hand back into Agatha's. "It's getting late already, so if Aggie is ready…" She nodded to him wordlessly, "I think we'll go upstairs and change into our costumes."

They said their pleasantries and waltzed up the stairs, a sense of relief washing over the both of them.

"So what did you think?" Norman asked her as they approached his room.

"I think…" Agatha replied, "that you have a lovely family. And that…I could get used to the idea of maybe being part of it, somehow…someday…"

Norman pretended not to catch the flirtatious twinkle in her eye, but it would come to be the object of his daydreams for a very long time to come after that night.


	8. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night V

I don't know what made this chapter so hard to write. But somehow, I think anyone who was already enjoying it won't complai nthat it's after Halloween now.

One more to go on this "arc". Enjoy!

* * *

Norman looked over his date and tried not to wince.

It wasn't the outfit, necessarily. She looked darkly radiant (was that even possible?) to Norman no matter what, and especially now that she was standing right there in flesh and blood. The little witch hat perched atop her head only added to the tug at his horror-fan heartstrings.

No, it was the scowling pout on display from his darling Aggie that had him tied up in knots. And it was all precisely because of that very same "adorable" witch hat.

"_Norman_," she said, voice flush with exasperation, "I really don't think this is such a good idea."

"No really, Aggie," he insisted. "It's fine, you look way better than all those other pretend witches!"

She glared at him in a way he could have sworn he'd seen his mother use on his father before, a mix of disappointment and consternation that he knew he'd likely have to get used to one way or another.

"But I'm not just a _pretend_ witch, Norman," she said. "And I thought that for just one night, I could forget that." He voice softened. "Forget that…with you. But I guess there's never any getting away from it…"

Norman rubbed the back of his neck, already embarrassed enough to have her here in his disarray of a room, much less failing in his duties as a decent boyfriend.

"Look, Aggie…" he began, "I know this isn't what you wanted…what _we_ wanted, when we planned this…"

His eyes glanced over to the discarded remains of the entirely too ill-fitting Mavis costume they'd planned out, to go with Norman's Johnnystein. Try as they did to be careful about every detail, it turned out impossible to fully guess how Agatha would translate to the corporal world. But Norman was beginning to sorely regret suggesting she go as a witch now, no matter how well she looked the part. With those puritan clothes, and her dark, striking features…

"But…I think you have a real chance here, to do something good," he said, hoping she'd bother to hear him out and not disappear in a cloud of angry smoke. She glared, but kept her eye contact and nodded, arms crossing.

"I'm listening," she answered.

"Well, we both know how awful all the witch hate and stuff is," he continued, sheepishly. "So maybe…maybe if you go as a witch like this…maybe people will see how nice you are. And how warm and…_pretty_ you are," he blurted out, red beginning to flood his ears and cheeks. "And…I don't know, maybe that'll help…heal. People might get the idea of a nice, _good_ witch in their heads." He dared to take a step closer to her. "A witch like you," he offered, with a smile.

Agatha seemed to chew on the idea for a moment, before uncrossing her arms and looking Norman over. "I suppose…it's worth a try," she relented, still sounding skeptical. "But you will have to answer for any torches and pitchforks, _Normanstein_," she jibbed. "I will not be paying for any more of your mistakes tonight, no matter how touched I am that you've gone out of you way to be so sweet." She closed their distance and kissed him on the cheek. "And no matter how ridiculous and oddly handsome you look as this blue monster creature."

Norman breathed a heavy sigh, relieved and terrified of what the evening might still bring. "Yeah," he said, "I'll do my best."

He laced his hand with hers and led her out of the zombie-infused room.

"Come on," he said, "let's go show you the real spirit of Halloween."

* * *

They trotted down the street, carrying their plastic pumpkin pails by their sides gingerly with anticipation and a sense of nervousness that neither had felt around the other in what seemed like a lifetime. Norman still felt the inescapable urge to wrap her in his arms, bury his nose in her hair, and just drink in her being _here_…but he contained himself, for both their sake. There was plenty left to do in their date, and she didn't seem in the mood for such affections at the moment.

Agatha's nose wrinkled as she darted her eyes around at the festive sights, all too many of which referenced her untimely demise. She walked much more stiffly than usual, shoulders tense and hands knit in front of her. She clutched her pail like a float in the middle of the ocean. Norman scanned the upcoming street intently, finding what seemed to be a friendly looking home to make their first stop.

"Okay Aggie, let's try that one," he said, pointing at the abode. It was decorated simply, but enough enthusiasm to invite any would-be trick-or-treaters. The lawn sported a mock headstone, and spider webbing coated the doorway. Strings of purple lights danced around the windows. It was as good a place as any to begin.

Agatha walked beside Norman cautiously, obviously still nervous about the prospect of meeting strangers from what had long seemed such a hostile town, and expecting them to give her candy for begging in witch's clothing. Still, she followed him up to the doorway.

"Now remember, it's just like I told you before," he explained. "When they open that door, we just say 'trick-or-treat!', and they should give us candy. It's that easy," he said, giving her a sideways smirk. She nodded, unable to prevent a smirk of her own in return. Norman rang the doorbell, and he wondered how the two tones that rang out could have sounded so…_weighty_.

They could hear voices coming from inside, semi-frantic but friendly. Clearly, they'd been the first visitors of the night.

"Alright, alright, honey you take the dogs, I got the candy…ok…ok, yes, go ahead now!"

The door opened to reveal a slightly elderly lady, perhaps only recently an "empty-nester". She wore a festive sweater, orange and black and emblazoned with a black cat on a full moon. It was charmingly gaudy, much like the rest of the interior's decorations. She smiled warmly, with a bowl of Reese's and Kit-Kats held out in front of her.

"Why hello, there!" she exclaimed. "Happy Halloween! You both look adorable,"

She scanned the two of them with eager affection. Agatha shuffled her feet around, still somewhat in disbelief that this bizarre holiday tradition existed at all.

"Thank you, ma'am," Norman replied. Agatha whimpered in agreement.

"Oh, you're quite welcome dearies. Now, let me guess…you must be a Frankenstein fellow," she said, leaning back pensively and pointing at Norman. She rustled the candy around absent-mindedly.

"And you, young lady," she said, grinning broadly. "Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"

Agatha looked up in a panic. The old woman seemed nice, and her eyes had a gentle sort of twinkle, like her mother had when she tickled Agatha as a small girl.

"I-I'm not sure what you mean madam," she stammered. "I mean you no harm, please-"

"Ah, so you must be a good witch then!" the old lady laughed. "I'm glad to meet you on this spooky night then, little miss good witch. Very lucky indeed."

Agatha's eyes turned glassy. She looked over to Norman, who tried to conceal a smirk. He nodded, spurring her on. _All is well, she's nice_, he seemed to say.

"A…A good witch, ma'am?" Agatha asked, punctuating each word with curiosity. "Is there such a thing?"

"Oh yes, sweetheart," the old woman assured. She gently placed her hand on Agatha's tiny shoulder, with the practice of a woman who spent a lifetime comforting her own children. "Nothing says a little magic in your life has to be [i]bad[/i]."

Agatha's face blossomed into a smile, with a hefty weight evaporating from her soul. "I…can be a good witch…" she whispered under her breath to herself.

The young couple received their candy and thanked the old woman profusely for her kindness. They made their way back down the street, Agatha now slipping her hand into Norman's as they walked. He could feel the energy of her newfound revelation through her touch, as much as he could see it in the gleam of her bright blue eyes.

"Thank you, Norman," she said lovingly. "That…that was amazing. I never knew such kindness was possible. And I never knew-"

Her voice choked.

"I never thought…I thought I was meant to be _cursed_ forever, Norman."

She stopped and drew him into her arms. Norman wrapped his arms around her in return, and swayed until she gathered herself.

"But…now I realize. The old woman made it seem _real_ to me, that I could be something more than an evil hag, even with this 'gift'."

"It was always obvious to me, Aggie," Norman responded. He drew her back to stare into her gaze, rife with every emotion he knew. "That's why I never ran."

Agatha smiled, and leaned in to rub her nose with his. "Thank you," she said, "For everything. Again."

"There's still more to go, Aggie," he said with an air of mischief. "You still haven't experienced what trick-or-treating is all about."

Agatha pursed her lips in an excited pout, eyes gleaming with anticipation. She mimicked Norman as each pulled out a peanut butter cup and unwrapped it.

"Did you ever get to have chocolate, Aggie? Ever?" Norman asked her.

She shook her head, no. "I heard about it from some of the traders, but we never had any in the village."

"Not ever, huh? Then this is going to be special. Go ahead and take a bite," Norman instructed, chomping on his own piece to demonstrate.

Agatha smelled the confection and thumbed along the ridges, taking every detail into account. She was unsure what to make of it, and yet there was an undeniable allure to the sweetness that she could detect in each of her senses, somehow. She raised it to her mouth and took a bite. The sensation of so much decadence was so foreign…and yet comforting. She felt even more alive, and far more joyous. The creamy peanut butter was like the velvet her mother had once brought home for a very special occasion, soft and silken on her tongue.

Did people really just give out such wondrous treats to children every year on this night, just for dressing as myths? Could there really be such an overabundance of fortune, in this world that already held a soul as wonderful as Norman Babcock?

"I'm guessing you like it, then?" Norman asked. "Aggie? You there?"

Agatha caught herself and giggled. "Oh, yes Norman. I'm sorry," she said, sweet as the candy she just ate. "I was just a little overwhelmed…that was as incredible as you said it would be." She placed a loving peck on his lips. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

Norman grinned. "Well, it's not over yet, Glinda" he jibbed.

"Glinda?"

"Famous 'good witch', like you. Don't worry about it."

Norman took her hand and tugged her gently in the direction of the unexplored end of the street. "We can still go to plenty more houses before it gets too late."

Agatha gave no objection as they trotted down the street to their next house. For as long as she could in what remained of this night, she was intent on savoring every bit of this wonderful world with the boy she loved.


	9. All Hallow's Eve is Date Night VI

Well, done in time for Christmas anyway. Hope you all still enjoy.

* * *

"_Halloween is over, and I missed it!_"

They both couldn't help but snigger at the line. Sally's antics were funny enough at face value, but the infamous (or so Norman had told her) ending to _It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!_ carried the most bittersweet relevancy to their own Halloween night spent with their "sweet baboo", now coming to a close.

Only, they'd far from missed the holiday. Norman couldn't have been happier with just how fully they'd lived it to the fullest.

"_Oh Great Pumpkin,_ _where are you?_"

Agatha shifted in Norman's arms. They lay upon his bed, feet turned to the pillows and heads nearest the TV, Agatha with her back to Norman's cozy embrace. She'd quickly latched on and nestled in at the start of their horror movie marathon, now concluding with what Norman claimed was a time honored All Hallow's Eve tradition in his time. The innocent adventures of the "moving-drawing-children" agreed with Agatha's Puritan sensibilities far more than Norman's cherished zombies and madmen.

Still, settling into his warmth was rather nice if truth be told, she thought. Even if out of sheer terror. Norman insisted that was what Halloween was really all about, but she preferred the candy and company far more.

"Linus and Lucy remind me of you and your own sister," Agatha said, nuzzling his bicep. He chuckled into her hair and breathed her in, trying to savor the last remaining minutes of her time on Earth for another whole year. He reminded himself to thank his parents for the hundredth time, for letting him have this time alone with her. He resolved to maintain that kind of trust for the future.

"Do you think so?" he said.

"Yes, I do. She may be brusque and vivacious like you say," she continued, tracing lazy circles on his forearm as they watched Lucy return her brother home from the pumpkin patch. "But both sisters care about their brother so much…in the end, they're always going to be there for them."

"Heh. I guess that's true" Norman mused in agreement. He planted a kiss on the crown of her head and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

The credits were rolling now.

"…I wish you could always be here, too."

Norman had barely whispered the words, on the back of a croak shot from a rapidly forming crack in his aching heart. The words hung in the air, mingling with the magical charge of a cool, Halloween breeze drafting in through the cracks of his window. Agatha's tiny hands clutched him tightly.

"...me too."

Agatha's response was short, and tightly squeaked out from deep within her. She squirmed around to come face to face with her anchor to this strange, wondrous world.

The TV had gone blank, now at the bitter end of Norman's vintage VHS cassette recording.

She pressed her lips to his, and he kissed her back with more depth than she'd ever felt from him previously, enough to make her dizzy with heady feeling.

She stared up straight through to his heart and soul with eyes shining periwinkle blue, afraid to ask the question on her mind. She forced her tongue to move, out of a greater fear of not knowing the answer.

"Norman," she lilted, "will…will you wait for me, another whole year? Can you stand it?" Her nose wrinkled with distress as she bit her lip. "Just…just one night a year? Are you sure? I won't be mad…"

Her voice tapered off as he soothingly brushed her long, silken black tresses back from her face. Her eyes closed in bliss at the affectionate touch.

"Aggie, I felt more alive in one night with you than I have on _any_ other night or day this entire past year," he said. "If I can have you here to hold and show you just how much I love you," he cupped the back of her head, "then I'll make sure one night is all I need. All _we_ need. For as long as you'll let me." He punctuated the statement by drawing her in for a kiss.

Agatha's tears began to well up, but she blinked them down and smiled wider than she could ever remember. "I love you, too," she murmured upon breaking free.

The breathless admission flowed surprisingly easily, followed close behind by a long series of their mouths 'embraces. They kissed deep and tenderly, making wordless promises for what felt like an all too short eternity. Norman felt the end coming by the hint of an ethereal softness to Agatha's lips.

"Norman…" she said. She had been fully aware that this would be her fate from the start of the night, but she'd blessedly forgotten in the midst of the fun and joy at being alive again. "I think…this is it. It's nearly sunrise now…I can feel it."

"I know," he said plainly, trying to force down the heartache just long enough to keep the both of them calm in these final, critical moments. This is what they'd carry through to the next year, these memories…

"I…I'm not scared," she said with her face set in bold, brave features. Her quivering voice only barely betrayed her outward confidence as she slipped further into the ether with every new sunbeam. "I'm not scared this time…because I know I'll be back. And we'll be together again…and it'll be just as wonderful."

Norman couldn't help but feel reassured in the presence of her newfound strength. "I'll be waiting…and I'll still see you every day, just like before. I promise." He pulled her in to breathe her scent of wildflowers one more time. "It'll give me something to look forward to, seeing your pretty face on the way to school now and knowing how soft it really is…"

She giggled, then she poked her head back out with a blazing look in her eyes. She kissed him one final time, and they let it linger on for as long as possible, as she faded completely into the dewy morning air.

Norman lay there delirious, at last feeling the effects of exhaustion brought on from staying up all night. His arms remained stiff, holding what should have been the petite form of a pretty girl watching the sunrise with him on a beautiful November morning. Instead, he held cold, empty space. He desperately wanted to cry, but nothing could come out. He simply felt numb.

That's when, as if on cue but more likely on prompt, he heard the breeze pick up outside, rustling the bare limbs of the trees outside his window.

He thought it sounded like a voice, one that soothed him to the marrow. He could swear on his family's collective souls that the voice could be heard saying something, something that made him smile.

He collapsed on the bed, grinning at the odd sensation of the wind whispering "_I love you, I love you…_" as his consciousness faded to black.

"_Love you too, Aggie…_"

When he awoke later in the bright sun of midday, he first thanked whatever gods may be above for gifting him with a Friday Halloween. He'd need the weekend to recover. He then made breakfast out of the remaining Halloween candy, finding it bittersweet with memories.

When his family asked why he had taped a Reese's wrapper to his wall, he simply told them "to remember." They were only half correct when they walked off, believing it to be a simple memento.

But Norman smiled at it every night before he went to bed, to remember that it was only so many more days until he could hold her again. From that Halloween on, All Hallow's Eve would always be more than their favorite holiday. It would forever be their one, special "date night".

* * *

End of "All Hallow's Eve Is Date Night" story arc. It's been fun, hasn't it? I hope all your Halloween's were as good as Norman and Aggie's.

-Spruce


	10. Christmastime Surprises

_Alright, so it's a bit late...but who's counting? Merry Christmas and a Happy New year, all!_

* * *

"Norman…it's the _middle of the night_. I can see you're freezing, and I don't see what could possibly be worth surprising me with all the way out here."

"That's the thing, Aggie," Norman replied to the loveliest spectre he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing, "you're not supposed to think anything good is coming yet. That's why it's such a great surprise!"

Agatha pouted, planting her arms upon her hips as she wafted through the cool December air. She cast her view upward, trying to make sense of Norman's navigation.

"And you're sure you're following the right stars?" she asked. Norman could swear he must have heard traces of her mother in the tone she was giving him.

"Well, about that Aggie…that part was a fib to sell the surprise. The truth is, I already knew exactly where we we're going," Norman said with an impish smirk. The snow crackled under his boot as he hoisted himself over a particularly large log. Agatha hovered over him on the other side, and Norman wondered how on Earth a girl of her age, ghost or not, could furrow their brow like that.

"Norman, you better find this place soon," she said. Her expression grew tender, and beads of yellow sparks began to drip from her eyes. "I wanted…to just spend time with you, and your family, without all the fuss and madness over gifts and twinkling lights and hot cocoa-"

"You said you wished you could try cocoa, I thought?" Norman interrupted, stuffing his hands in his pockets and matching her drift through the woods. _Not much farther now…_

"I did!" Agatha shouted, form sparking into lightning momentarily. "But…none of that was allowed when I was alive, not even with _Mommy_…"

The ghost girl wrapped up her boyfriend as best she could, separated as they were by time and body. Norman stopped in his tracks. The chilly breeze picked up, and snow passed right through Agatha into Norman's jacket. His heart ached with returned affection…and sorrow over the stark reminder of their situation.

"So I don't know what to _do_ with all this…Christmas time…I just know that I liked the idea of you being home from school for a week." She pulled away to look at him with big, soulful doe-eyes. "And I liked the sound of being able to get closer to you…and the others in house."

"Aggie…" Norman whispered, "that's exactly why I wanted to show you this. Look around. Doesn't this all look familiar?"

Norman gestured to the entirety of the woods, and Agatha found herself soothed by the gently falling snow. Something about this place…

"This..this leads right to the tree." Agatha thought aloud. The realization began to quicken her mannerisms. "Wha-what does that have to do with anything, though?"

Norman grinned. "You'll see."

They walked just a few ticks farther, until Norman thrust his hand out to block Agatha's gaze as they passed over the final crest of the hill.

"No peeking, Aggie," Norman teased. He ignored the huff of indignation, accentuated by puffs of lightning. Agatha played along, hovering behind his hand until she was certain they were standing right before "their" tree.

"Okay, so…I know you didn't want me to do much, if anything for you for the holiday. But I couldn't resist, and…I just hope you like-" Norman cast away his hand, revealing a beautifully decorated tree.

"-this."

Agatha's eyes went wide with awe. Her hands lifted to her face, instinctively trying to conceal her amazement at the splendor the object of her affection had created for her.

She floated slightly further into the air, to better see the details. The tree was laden with tinsel of all kinds, gold, silver, red, green, everything in between. Dangling glass balls of the very same color spectrum hung from the branches. Garland strung from pinecones and poinsettia flowers danced throughout, with symbolic testaments to Agatha's life and afterlife with Norman dotted all throughout this one cozy, solitary Christmas tree, planted in the middle of a New England forest.

No lights were needed; every bit gleamed like a light of its own in the pale moonlight.

"Um, Aggie," Norman chimed, running his hand through his eternally spiked hair. "Is it…erm, too much?"

She didn't answer. She just sank lower, back toward the ground.

"Too little?" Norman tried, voice beginning to crack a little with nerves. Still no answer.

"Are…are you mad?"

Agatha asked the preposterous question with a buss on the lips, and a close embrace.

"It's wonderful, Norman," she whispered to his ear. "It must have taken you so long though…"

"Heh. It was nothing. Once I convinced you to start meeting me in my room," Norman hugged her back, planting a kiss on her cheek, "it was what you might call a 'labor of love', I guess."

"You what? That's why-ohh, you…and to think you could have gotten a cold trying to do all this out here by yourself," Agatha laughed, voice too full of mirth to truly sound scolding.

"I had maybe an idea or two from Courtney, honestly…" Norman confessed, followed by more giggles. He could swear they sounded like the famed silver bells of the season.

"I think…I think I get what this holiday means to you now, Norman. It's a lovely thing, after all, to celebrate showing our love to one another." Agatha let her tiny smile grow into a full fledged grin, staring right through Norman's eyes into his heart and soul. He rubbed his nose with hers, smiling right back in the glow of the gift he'd made for her.

"Merry Christmas, Aggie."

"Merry Christmas, Norman."

The cocoa and gingerbread upon returning to the fireside in the Babcock home was fantastic. But both considered the sweetness in the promise of another year's devotion to each other, made with a kiss by the light of the moon and their tree, to be the finest gift of all that Christmas.


End file.
